


Over His Kingdom (He Watches)

by SilverBlaze85



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Coma, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, h/c bingo fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-26 23:12:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/655437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverBlaze85/pseuds/SilverBlaze85
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Then he hears Barton’s low and steady voice, murmuring too quietly (or too far away) to really comprehend, but his asset is safe, and he lets the oblivion pull him under again like the tide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over His Kingdom (He Watches)

  
**Title:** Over His Kingdom (He Watches)  
 **Word Count:** 514 words  
 **Fandom:** Avengers  
 **Rating:** PG  
 **Warnings:** None that I know of. Fills my "coma" prompt for Hurt/Comfort Bingo  
 **Summary:** Then he hears Barton’s low and steady voice, murmuring too quietly (or too far away) to really comprehend, but his asset is safe, and he lets the oblivion pull him under again like the tide.  
  


* * *

  
He’s not even sure he’s awake, the first time. He _hurts_ , chest flaring in pain every time a breath is pushed forcibly into him, various aches and sores along his frame. He can’t open his eyes, can’t seem to move, but the panic is vibrating under his skin.

There’s something incredibly important he’s forgetting, and he can’t remember what it is. But it’s important. He hears a beeping nearby increase as the panic gets worse, and there are some distant words before ice floods his veins, and pulls him back under.

**

The second time, he rises just enough to recognize the breathing tube and the forced breaths, and fights against the panic. Then he hears Barton’s low and steady voice, murmuring too quietly (or too far away) to really comprehend, but his asset is safe, and he lets the oblivion pull him under again like the tide.

It’s okay, if Barton is talking. It’s okay.

**

It takes a few more tries, each one accompanied by Clint, if not his voice then his steady and reassuring aura. So when he finally manages to pry his eyes open, they track lazily across the room, and Phil wonders for a second if maybe his vision is wrong, because the only person in the room is Natasha, who is up and beside him in an instant. “Phil?” She inquires softly, but she’s not Barton, and he slides back under. His head hurts, and his chest is still painful likened to agony, and his brain is muddled and foggy.

Over the next few days he starts to get with it, his brain working a little better every time, and when he levers his eyes open, the team is there in various parts, or a doctor who calmly repeats ‘medical coma’ and ‘trauma’ in patient tones that suggest he’s been told it several times before. They test him again and again, and he knows he doesn’t pass them all, isn’t blind to the furrowed brows or the jotted notes, but he can’t quite bring himself to care. He waits until he’s a little more coherent, and until Natasha is pulling out a thick book that she’s been reading to him, to rasp a question. “Where’s Barton?”

Her gaze is a little too calculating and shrew, and she watches him for a long moment before settling more firmly into her chair. “More than likely, at the Tower. He’s not been by to see you yet.”

He doesn’t tell her she’s wrong. He doesn’t tell her about the times during the night when he’ll stir, not fully awake but enough to be aware, and how Clint is a steady presence in his room, sometimes singing softly, sometimes whispering passages from a book or recounting past missions, quite often silent, but still a constant. He doesn’t tell her how he can slip back under easily, no panic about being vulnerable, no terror beating at his mind, just quiet contentment and safety as he falls back asleep.

He just nods and smiles, and tugs the thin hospital blanket closer to himself, and closes his eyes.

His hawk will be by shortly. 


End file.
